


Blamco-phobic

by orphan_account



Series: Some Type of Love [1]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Humor, M/M, No Spoilers, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-03
Updated: 2016-01-03
Packaged: 2018-05-11 07:41:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5619046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>MacCready quickly finds out that any problem or argument can be defused with a dead feral ghoul and a questionable sense of humor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blamco-phobic

**Author's Note:**

> Shoutout to me picking up writing again after three million years of . . . not . . . writing. Excuse the rustiness and mistakes, they're all my own but if you see any be sure to yell at me for them. It's been a while and I need it.

"Agony," MacCready sighed out, staring at the man in the vault suit currently crouched in the middle of an aisle and examining a box of Blamco Mac n' Cheese. The Super Duper Mart was undoubtedly picked clean but Logan demanded that they at least check it out, that maybe there was something worth picking up. There wasn't, of course, unless Logan valued old, crappy food as much as MacCready valued time  -  which they were wasting at that very moment. He had made sure to make his disdain known, sighing loudly and scoffing to himself every time Logan had stopped to sort through more dirty boxes. Logan had ignored him so far, but MacCready knew it was getting to him. There was a tenseness in his shoulders, a slight twitch in his eye. Good. After dragging him around this stupid supermarket, the least he could do was be annoyed.  

Using the butt of his rifle, he nudged a rickety display shelf and let it rock back and forth. It made a loud clicking noise that echoed throughout the store, and he sighed again. Logan turned just enough so he could glare at MacCready over his shoulder. They locked eyes and MacCready tilted his head in mock innocence that he quickly shattered when he elbowed the display shelf again. “Absolute _agony_.”

“Y’know,” Logan stands, wincing only a little when his knees pop but not daring to drop his annoyed scowl. “For someone who complains their every waking moment about eating nothing but molerat and carrots  -  which is _not_ fucking true  -  you’d be a little goddamn patient when it came to searching for food.”

“Not when the food is about a million years old,” MacCready countered, picking up a damaged package, “And when it’s processed into a _box_.”

He nearly falls back in shock when, in one giant stride, Logan crosses the aisle and snatched the box from MacCready’s hand. It always catches MacCready by surprise when he pulled shi  -  _crap_ like that. The vaultie looked like he should lumber around purely because of his bulking size, but Logan’s almost alarmingly agile.

“What do you want me to do? Devote my time to farming and cattle raising so you don’t have to bitch about Mac n’ Cheese?”

“Aw,” He feigns appreciation, pitching his voice higher because he knew it aggravated Logan, “You’d do that for little ol’ me?”

Logan made an aborted gesture, as if he was three seconds away from reaching out and throttling his companion. Instead, he flexed his fingers and gritted his teeth. “You’re so fucking irritating sometimes, okay? Just  -  I need you to know this.”

“Maybe if you listened to me every once in awhile,” MacCready trailed off, because they’ve had this conversation, this _argument_ , many times before. It came up more often lately. In the few months they had been traveling with each other, him and Logan had gotten on relatively well. It was hard to find someone who had the same sarcastic, dry sense of humor and even harder to find a person willing to put up with him for an extended period of time. It’s why, at first, MacCready tried hard to get along with Logan and all of his other friends he’d gathered while wandering the wasteland. It was hard finding work with his newfound reputation thanks to the Gunners, and he wasn’t about to look a gift brahmin in the mouth. Luckily, Logan seemed to enjoy his company. He took MacCready with him everywhere because  -  most of the time  -  they had the same thought process on certain situations. They agreed on telling most people to fuck off, to give them caps in exchange for dealing with their marital problems.

But lately, Logan had been distant. He went off on his own more than usual, leaving MacCready at Red Rocket with the rest of Logan’s tag-alongs and their curious stares. They wouldn’t see him for days at a time and when he came back around, he was quiet. That in itself was jarring. Logan always made sure to make his presence loud and known, so seeing him brush everyone off and lock himself in his old house back in Sanctuary was unsettling. It put everyone on edge, and that was not even mentioning the giant airship floating off in the distance and the growing number of Gen 1 synths that have been roaming the Commonwealth.

And when MacCready was stressed, his attitude toward others suffered.

Logan pinched the bridge of his nose as he turned back around  -  away from MacCready. “We’ll leave in a fucking minute, alright, princess? Okay? Fuck.”

“Fine, yes, _whatever_.”

To top off the childish argument, MacCready stormed out of the aisle and toward the other side of the Super Duper Mart. He wasn’t hurt, or anything. In fact, he wasn’t even mad. It wasn’t like he and Logan were close, they were just associates, he was just his employer. A source of caps. Nothing, really.

As half the store was caved in and littered with feral ghoul corpses, there wasn’t much one can do after marching away from their problems. The attached diner was completely trashed and ransacked, nothing but bones and papers. However, the alternative was to go back to the aisles with Logan and sit like a petulant child while he waited for him to finish. Not very dignifying  -  not that pacing around because he didn’t get his way was much better. He sulked around for nearly a half hour until he finally let himself mentally debate on going back. Apologizing usually didn’t cross his mind in situations like this. The people who bought him out never really listened to him like Logan did, so there was no reason to talk long enough about things other than where and when MacCready should shoot. This was new territory. Well, _unfamiliar_ territory. Lucy was the last person he talked to extensively and, well, he doesn’t have a good track record with that, really.

“Robert.”

MacCready froze, his back to the rest of the store and his eyes on the closest exit. He hadn’t noticed anyone come through the front door and he would have definitely heard the back-entrance garage grind open. Still, he had seen a few raiders who knew their way around a stealth boy and broken windows. _Crap_ , should he yell out for Logan or does the man already know about the intruders? Screw it, maybe he should just  -  

“ _Robert._ ”

Movement from in between two display shelves caught his eye and he spun around in time to see a figure lean in the gap. It was mostly limp, and it took a minute for MacCready to register why. It was a ghoul, long since dead but mostly in tact. He blinked several times, watching the head loll back and forth because what in the _hell_? This is the kind of crap Hancock talked about seeing after huffing bad jet.

The body moved again, flicking its head back so its face was in view. “ _Robert, why do you never look at me during?_ ”

It was then that he noticed the shadow behind the ghoul as it struggled to keep the body upright. “Logan? Why  -  what are you even  -  “

Logan ignored the beginning of MacCready’s question. He used the ghoul’s wrist so he could lift its arm, holding out its hand to reach for the sniper in front of them. “ _You used to love me, Robert,_ ” he stated, distorting his own voice to make it sound aged and weak. “ _What changed? Is it my new haircut?”_ He brought the hand up to smooth through the hair  -  or what was left of it  -  at the top of the ghoul’s head. “ _You said you loved the bald look.”_

MacCready felt like he was teetering on the line between laughing and crying. If his emotions were scaled by a meter, the needle would be _very_ close to ‘crying’. “Why are you like this?”

 “ _Our relationship changed me, Robert. You’ve been pushing me away, that’s why I act like this._ ”

It was these kinds of moments that made MacCready wish he had Deacon’s level of wit. Sometimes, he was quick with his tongue, but this? The shift in attitude nearly gave him whiplash. The best he could do was open his mouth, furrow his brow, and shake his head.

“ _Don’t shake me off. Don’t turn your back on me again, Robert.”_

“Stop  -  _stop_ calling me that!” He wish he could blame the quake in his voice on the aggravation he should be feeling, but MacCready couldn’t hide the laugh that broke through in his words.

Logan let the ghoul drop forward a little to give off the illusion that it was leaning toward him. “ _Do you regret telling me your full name, Robert?_ ”

“I regret taking this job, that’s what I regret.”

The body hit the floor a second later, and Logan coughed once with a look of distaste. “You gotta appreciate my ability to stay in character, though.” He stepped over the ghoul to join MacCready on his side of the aisle. “Thing smelled worse than Dogmeat after he got into that Mirelurk nest.”

MacCready scoffed, “I can admire your determination, sure.”

Logan grinned at him but didn’t say anything else. It was a thing he did; he stared at someone as he thought about what he wanted to say to them next. Overall, it was an uncomfortable experience for everyone involved  -  except Logan, of course. The vaultie was completely oblivious to the way MacCready shifted awkwardly on his feet as he looked away from Logan and then back to him about four times a second.

“Hey, listen, alright,” he folded his arms across his chest and continued looking down at MacCready. His expression sobered, appearing more serious. “Alright, um, I’m sorry, y’know? I’ve been a dick lately, I guess.”

This was new. MacCready had never had a heart to heart with any of his previous employers. Was that even what was happening right now? Was Logan capable of this kind of stuff? Was _he_?

So, as emotionally constipated as he was, instead of replying with an understanding comment, he proceeded with sarcasm. “Nah, I haven’t noticed. Being around you is a pleasure at all times of the day.”

Logan rolled his eyes, “Hardy har, man. Seriously, though, tryin’ to have a moment  -  “

“I know,” the sniper replied, “It’s making me uncomfortable.”

“Me too, just  -  just wait a second. It’s just,” He took a breath and chewed at his bottom lip, recollecting his thoughts. “With everything that’s going on, y’know? Like, That Elder guy up on his giant ass blimp wanting to kill everyone and then the Railroad wanting to save _almost_ everyone  -  and I still have no idea where Shaun is.” Logan shrugged and MacCready wondered if he should offer comfort in any way. “And I’ve tried to be cool about it ‘cause I’m a general now? I guess? And Preston and everyone else in Sanctuary and literally every other settlement across the Commonwealth is relying on me to help them, too.”

“Hey, I get it, okay?” MacCready shuffled forward to pat at Logan’s bicep in a ‘ _there, there, little skipper_ ’ fashion, but the vaultie grabbed his hand before he could pull away from him. His grip wasn’t tight, but firm enough that it still caught MacCready off guard.

“I just wanted to say it, because you’re the last person I would want to push away with all of this.”

That stole all the air from his lungs, made him choke as it was sucked out of him. What the hell was that supposed to mean? Who the hell did Logan think he was to say shi  -  crap like that? They weren’t friends or anything, they weren’t _that_ close. 

“I get it,” he mumbled to him anyway, despite all the screaming that was happening in his head. “You don’t really have to apologize. I said before how I wasn’t good at, like, having friends. I act like I want to be alone all the time, but that’s bullcrap. I was just scared of losing a good friend, I guess, and I - I was being a jerk, too.”

Logan nodded solemnly. “Yeah. You were.”

MacCready jerked his arm away from the other’s grasp, “This is why we never have ‘moments’."

He turned his back on Logan and headed for the door, the sound of throaty laughter and the rustling of old, damaged boxes of food followed close behind.


End file.
